"You remember that?" I lower the bottle to my side. I'd been wondering what he might've retained from our past, and even though it's dumb, the fact that he remembers meeting Ava fills me with hope. "You remember Halloween night?" I whisper, recalling the first time we kissed, out by the pool, both of us dressed in perfectly matching costumes of Marie Antoinette and her lover, Count Fersen, without having planned it.

"Yeah, I remember." He shakes his head. "And I hate to break it to you, but it was a moment of weakness that'll never happen again. One you took far too seriously. And believe me, if I'd known what a freak you'd turn out to be, I wouldn't have bothered. It wasn't worth it."

I swallow hard and blink back the tears. Feeling empty, hollowed out, my insides excavated and tossed aside, as any chance of reclaiming our love—the only thing that makes this particular life worth living—slips out of reach. And even though I remind myself that those are Roman's words not his—that the real Damen isn't capable of treating anyone like this—it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Damen, please, " I finally manage. "I know it looks bad. Really, I do. But I can explain. You see, we're only trying to help you." He looks at me, his gaze so derisive it fills me with shame. But I force myself to continue, knowing I at least have to try. "Someone is trying to poison you." I swallow, meeting his eyes. "Someone you know." He shakes his head, not buying a word of it. Convinced that I'm stark raving mental and should be locked up immediately.

"And this person responsible for poisoning me, this person I happen to know, would that, by any chance, be you?" He takes another step toward me. "Because you're the one breaking into my home. You're the one getting all up in my fridge and messing with my drinks. I think the evidence speaks for itself."

I shake my head, talking past the searing heat in my throat when I say, "I know how it looks, but you've got to believe me! It's all true, I'm not making it up!" He takes another step closer, advancing on me in a way so intentional, so slow and deliberate, it's like he's stalking his prey. So I decide to just go for it, to let it all out. I mean, I've got nothing to lose anyway. "It's Roman, okay?" I suck in my breath, watching his expression change from accusatory to outraged. "Your new friend Roman is—" I glance at Ava, knowing I can't say what Roman actually is—an immortal rogue set on killing Damen for some reason I've yet to determine. But it's not like it matters anyway. Damen has no memory of Drina or being immortal, he's so far gone he'd never understand.

"Get out," he says, the look in his eyes so cold it chills me more than the air flowing from his fridge. "Get the hell out before I call the police." I peer at Ava, seeing her pour the tampered contents down the drain the second he makes the threat. Then I gaze at Damen, grasping his phone, his index finger already pressing the nine, followed by the one, and then—I have to stop him. There's no way I can allow him to complete that call. No way I can risk getting the police involved. So I stare into his eyes, even though he refuses to look at me. I just focus all of my energy on him, my thoughts reaching out to him, attempting to meld and influence. Showering him with the most compassionate loving white light along with a bouquet of telepathic red tulips. All the while whispering,

"No need for trouble." I slowly back away. "You don't need to call anyone, we're leaving right now."

Holding my breath as he stares at the phone, not understanding why he can't seem to press the last one. He lifts his gaze, and for the briefest moment, just a flicker really, the old Damen's returned. Looking at me in the way that he used to—sending a delicious warm tingle all over my skin. And even though it's gone just as soon as it appeared—I'll happily settle for whatever I get. He tosses his phone onto the counter and shakes his head. And knowing we'd better move fast before my influence ends, I grab my bag and head for the door. Turning just as he empties his cupboards and fridge of every last bottle of juice. Removing their caps and pouring their contents right down the drain, convinced they're not safe for consumption, now that I've tampered with them.

Chapter Thirty-Five

"What will happen now that he no longer has the drink? Will he get better or worse?" That's the question Ava asked as soon as we got in mycar. And the truth is, I had no idea how to answer. Istill don't. So I didn't say anything. I just shrugged. "I'm so sorry," she said, clasping her hands in her lap, looking at me in a way that proved her sincerity. "I feel responsible."

But I just shook my head. Because even though it was kind of her fault for wasting so much time when she insisted on touring his house, I'm the one who came up with the brilliant idea of breaking in. I'm the one who got so caught up in the task at hand I forgot to keep my eye on the door. So if anyone's to blame, I am. But even worse than getting caught is knowing that in Damen's eyes, I've gone from being some weird freaky stalker chick, to a pathetic, delusional loser. Fully convinced I tried to spike his red brew with some crazy, black magic, voodoo concoction in hopes that he'd like me again.

Because that's exactly what Stacia convinced him of just after he relayed the story. And that's exactly what he's chosen to believe. In fact, it's what the whole school believes. Including a few of my teachers. Which makes going to school an even more miserable experience than it was before. Because now, not only must I suffer through endless taunts of Spaz! Looser! and Witch! but I've also been asked to stay after class by not one but now two of my teachers. Though I can't say Mr. Robins's request came as much of a surprise. I mean, since we'd already had a little talk about my supposed inability to move on and build a life for myself post-Damen, I can't say I was all that shocked when he kept me after class in order to discuss the incident. What did surprise me was the way I reacted. How quickly I resorted to doing the one thing I thought I'd never do—I lawyered up.